Dreaming With A Broken Heart
by My-Alphabet-Soup
Summary: Straining your ears, you hear the most horrible sound that you think you will ever hear; he is sobbing. Warning: major!char death
1. Rachel

**A/N Hello all. So it's been a while since I've posted a story, but fear not! This is a multi-chapter story - there will be 14 chapters in total - but it is more-or-less complete, so I will be updating weekly. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee, and nor do I own this story (well I own the written version), this fanfic is based off a youtube fanvid (which is absolutely amazing, by the way) by courtsgleelove called "Rachel/Finn (Glee) - Dreaming With a Broken Heart" (I have permission from the video maker to use it)**

**IMPORTANT NOTE****: Before you read this story, I urge you to watch the video (unless you are on a slow connection, in which case try to get to a fast computer, because it's AWESOME). It truly is a very well made video, hence the reason I felt compelled to put it into words. My advice is to watch it once you have finished reading this chapter. Just go to youtube and add this onto the end of the link: watch?v=AXL7bX7rdeU**

**-Alphabet**

**Points of interest: **

**-takes place just after Regionals**

RPOV

It is a Monday.

You are not one to begrudge days, since they do not have personalities, but you have never been partial to Mondays. Today is no exception.

This particular Monday, the Glee Club is called to the choir room during lunch because Mr Schuester has "very important news for all of you". As soon as the lunch bell rings, you pack up your mathematics books and make your way there. You are the first one, as usual, and you take the time to run through possible news that Mr Schuester might have. Mr Schuester has realised the error of his ways and is apologising for not giving any and all solos? Likely. Talent scouts saw you, Rachel Berry, at Regionals and want to offer you a scholarship to Juillard? Possible. The votes from Regionals have been recounted due to an uproar from New Directions fans and you were actually first, meaning that Glee will get another year? Probably not.

You do not have time to consider any more options, however, because the rest of what used to be New Directions has started to trickle in and take their seats. Last to enter the room is your curly-haired Spanish/Glee Club teacher, Mr Schuester, and he has an exponentially large grin on his face. Sitting up straighter in your seat, you fold your hands in your lap and cock your head slightly to the left; what could possibly have Mr Schue in such good spirits when the future of New Directions is non-existent? But you are not left to wonder for long, because Mr Schue opens his mouth, turning to face you all.

"Guys, I had a huge speech planned out to lead up to my news, but I just don't think I can hold it in any longer," he smiles and you lean forwards in your chair. He takes a deep breath and suddenly the words are tumbling from his mouth, "We've got another year."

For a moment there is silence. Then the words begin to sink in and you look around at your compatriots, who are having much the same reaction as you. Most faces are shocked, while some appear slightly suspicious, as though this is all just some ploy to get their hopes up and then crush them cruelly as part of some malicious joke.

"What do you mean we've got another year?" you ask Mr Schue, and the rest of the students look back to Mr Schue expectantly, wondering the same thing.

"We've had funding from a most surprising source, meaning that Principal Figgins has no problem with allowing Glee to continue," he grins madly.

"Um…where is the funding coming from?" Kurt asks softly.

"Coach Sylvester," Mr Schue grins. Then, upon seeing the sceptical looks on most of your faces, adds, "I know, I didn't believe it at first either, but I spoke to her and she claims that she needs Glee around to have something to ridicule! Now I don't care what the reason is, all I care about is that you guys get another chance to prove yourselves. You deserve this."

It's finally starting to sink in, and excitement is bubbling within you. You spin in your chair to see the excited looks on everyone else's faces and suddenly you are throwing yourself at Finn, who is sitting next to you, and embracing him in a fierce hug. You hear laughter around you as Finn's arms wrap around your shoulders and you see others in the club high-fiving, or, like yourself and Finn, hugging, each face sporting a sizable grin.

You are all so wrapped up in your celebrations, that you almost fail to notice the bell that has just started ringing. As you lift your head from your hug with Matt, wondering why lunch ended so quickly, you realise that it is the bell that signifies a lockdown, and after a moment of confusion, Mr Schue runs to the wall opposite you to turn off the lights and shut the door. Spinning on your heel, you find Finn's confused face and you hurry over to him. As you both sit down on the floor, when instructed to do so by Mr Schue, your hand finds his and he wraps his free arm around you.

Hoping that this is just a drill, you try to forget that the school usually runs one drill a year, and that you have already had this year's. The bell has now stopped and you are about to ask Mr Schue if the drill is over, but a loud shout from outside cuts you off. You did not hear what the voice yelled, but it soon comes again, "Come on Les! We have to hide! The cops are at the front fucking door!"

You wonder how long they have been here if the cops have already arrived, but you do not have much time to consider this, because suddenly the door is bursting open and two men are running in. The first thing you are struck by is how young they look - no older than 20 - and you wonder what they are even doing here. But the second things you are struck by are the large guns that each man possesses. You feel the arms around you tighten and look up to see Finn's scared face. You hope that perhaps they have not seen you, since you are all crouched uncomfortably in the darkest corner of the room, but they both stop short as their eye lock onto you all.

"Well what have we here?" one of them, the taller one, smirks, "Hostages?"

"Excellent," the other one grins. When he speaks again, he is addressing you and the rest of the group, "Ok, here's what's going to happen; you don't do anything unless you are specifically told to do so by one of us."

You press yourself harder into Finn and realise that tears are streaming down your face, but you do nothing to stop them, since you're too scared to make any sudden movements. Peering around at those you can see, you notice Kurt and Mercedes also holding hands and see that Kurt's chin is jutting out in an almost stubborn manner, but that his eyes are wide and he seems to be trembling and it occurs to you that he is trying to be strong for Mercedes. Mercedes, like you, has tears on her face and every now and then her body shudders with a soft hiccup. Directly next to you sits Matt. His face looks almost passive and you wonder why he isn't more scared, but then you notice that his hands are clenched tightly into fists and his breathing is soft and erratic. You slowly inch your hand over towards him and the moment your skin comes into contact with his, his eyes flick to you. As you cover his shaking hands with yours, he unclenches the fist and you thread your fingers through his. His eyes meet yours and you give what you hope is a comforting smile. He returns it. Since you are sitting closer to the front of the club, you cannot see anyone else, and so you turn back to Finn.

You don't know where you sit with Finn. He told you at Regionals that he loved you, but was that just in the heat of the moment? Can you even trust him? Looking around again, you realise that this is neither the place nor the time to be considering this. You notice that the two guys are peering out one of the windows and are conversing in low voices. You wonder whether or not they would actually shoot anyone, or if the guns are just for show. You wonder what they are even doing in the school. There is no cache of money for them to steal and they haven't made any demands. You think that perhaps they don't even really know themselves; after all, they do look very young. Suddenly they are walking back towards you and the rest of the group and it's as if they repel oxygen; meaning that the closer they get, the less able you are to breathe. They are heading for someone else - someone you can't see because your head is now determinedly facing forwards and refuses to turn even a little bit - but then you unwittingly let out a half-sob, half-squeak and their heads snap to you.

"You," the taller one jabs his finger at you and the other one wrenches you from Finn's tight grasp, "You look pretty scared. We're gonna show you to the cops, so they know we've got hostages. We're just gonna show you in the window so don't you even think about tryin' anything funny."

You feel like at any moment your knees are going to buckle and you're going to fall to the ground and be unable to get back up, but the guy still has a firm hold on your upper arm and is forcing you forwards, so you go with it. As you are nearing the window, you realise that you can hear sirens and a cacophony of sound that resembles a regular lunchtime in the cafeteria.

"Just...just lift her up," the one next to you says.

"Like...like this?" the one holding you asks as he sweeps you roughly off your feet and into his arms, bridal-style.

"No, are you fucking retarded? In the fucking window, so they can see her!" the first one yells and then you are being lifted higher.

When they hoist you up so that the police officers can see you, you see that the chaotic sounds are due to what must be every officer in Lima (which, admittedly, is not an exceptional amount) running around, setting up a perimeter and trying to get the rest of the school out. You see a lot of them staring directly at you and you realise that they know exactly where the criminals are. This thought, however, does little to ease your fears. One of the officers lifts a megaphone to his mouth and says, "We are willing to listen to your demands! Do not harm the hostage or hostages and we will consider your demands! Failure to comply will not end well for you!"

You think to yourself that the officer has probably never dealt with a hostage situation before, since this last sentence is likely to put the criminals on edge, instead of having the desired effect. You don't think you'd blame him, since this kind of thing isn't common in Lima, except that since you are one of the hostages, you do blame him just a little.

Without warning, the one holding you up seems to lose his footing and you feel yourself falling backwards. You hit the floor hard and the wind is knocked out of you. You hear someone - Finn, you think - shout your name, but then one of the guys points his gun at whoever it was, "Don't move! Don't you fucking move, or I'll shoot her!" and suddenly the gun is pointing at you.

You hear a gunshot and you flinch, but then you realise it was from outside. In the next split second, however, you hear a second gunshot and feel a searing pain in your chest. As you lay, gasping, on the floor, you see the face of the man that shot you and he looks oddly surprised.

"Jesus Christ man, we said we weren't going to shoot anyone! Holy shit man!" the other one is yelling.

Shaking his head slightly, the surprised look is wiped off the shooter's face and he turns to the shorter guy, "Shut up man! Just shut up and let me think!"

But he continues to yell, holding his head with one hand, "You _shot_ her! Are you fucking retarded? Are you insane? Do you realise what - " but suddenly he is cut off when the a second bullet leaves the tall guy's gun and embeds itself firmly in his skull.

Falling to the ground heavily, his gun skitters across the floor, and you don't see where it goes. Your chest is hurting too much for you to think about anything else. You barely even bat an eye when a third gunshot sounds, but you do fear that it has hit Finn. With this fear at the forefront of your mind, you try to yell his name, but it sounds more like a wet gurgle. Opening your eyes, even though you didn't realise they were closed, you see that the tall guy is also lying on the ground, and you wonder what happened. You don't have much time to wonder, however, because suddenly Finn's face looms large over you and all other thoughts leave your mind.

He is pulling you into his lap and you are twisting your hands into the material of his shirt and attempting to pull yourself closer. He cradles your head with an arm and as he props it up, you notice tears running down his face and see that his mouth is moving. Straining your ears, you hear the most horrible sound that you think you will ever hear; he is sobbing. He is brokenly sobbing your name as he gently rocks you, as though you are a small child, "Rach…please, please don't leave me. Come on Rach. Don't leave me Rach."

You try to tell him that you are never going to leave him until the day he orders you away from his side, even though you still aren't sure whether or not he likes you. As in _like_ likes you. But you find yourself unable to talk. As Finn holds you closer, you are able to see your chest and you see that you are absolutely covered in blood and you wonder how the blood spread so quickly. But then a sudden wave of lethargy washes over you and you find it difficult to even keep your eyes open. You feel someone else take your hand and you see Matt through hooded eyes. You aren't sure, but you think you can see tears on his face. Crouched next to him is Mr Schue and you are abso_lutely_ sure that you can see tears on _his _face.

Your vision begins to blur and grow grey around the edges and the more you try to focus, the fuzzier everything gets, until the only thing you can see is Finn's face, which is still directly above yours. You are vaguely aware of an awful metallic taste in your mouth and you try to get rid of it, but then you realise it is blood. You can feel it trickling sickeningly down your chin. As your eyelids grow heavier and your breathing becomes laboured, your eyes find Finn's and you try to smile at him, though you think it comes out as more of a grimace, and you manage to breathe, "Finn…" before your eyes close and you let the darkness consume you.


	2. Finn

FPOV

** flashback **

Red. Red. Everything is so red.

You wonder how things turned so shit so fast, but then she whimpers, and any thoughts not to do with her fly from your mind. You look back down at her and see that she has her fingers wound into your shirt and her back is arching in what seems to be a spasm. You are vaguely aware that someone is screaming her name, but you feel detached from the situation, and so you don't know who it is. It's only when you try to tell her that you love her that you realise that your mouth is already moving and that it is you who is screaming.

And oh _god_, everything is just red.

You try to remember what led to this, and your first thought is that you are going to personally murder the person outside who shot that first shot. Because it might as well have been the one that shot her…it had the same effect. But then you think that maybe this is something to think about later, because right now Rachel needs you. She is in pain and she looks scared and you don't know what you can do for her, so you just press a kiss to her forehead. You don't care that you are almost completely covered in blood from the chest down.

But the red is a little overwhelming.

You think that you will never be able to stand the colour red for as long as you live.

You look back at Rachel, and see that her eyes are closed. You scream her name again, but she doesn't respond. It is at this moment that you realise that she is not moving,…not even a little bit. Her chest is not rising and her body is not arching. A paramedic that you had not even noticed is attempting to pry her out of your hands and you want to hold onto her and yell about how she's yours and you love her, but instead you just let go of her. Your body seems to be moving independently of your mind. You are standing there, watching, as they place a white sheet over her and for a moment you wonder why they aren't helping her. Then it occurs to you that there is nothing they can do.

You hate yourself then, because you weren't even paying attention to her when her body gave out. You were too busy thinking about the colour red. What the hell is _wrong_ with you? You were looking at her the whole time, you just didn't _see_. Suddenly a paramedic grabs onto your wrist and steers you out the door where the rest of Glee Club is standing, waiting for you. Then you are being led down the corridor. For about half a minute, you cry and scream and carry on, but then, without warning, you stop. And then you are just…well you just _are_. You don't know what to do. You can barely put one foot in front of the other. You feel yourself shaking and you finally give way, about ten metres from the choir room door. The EMT runs back over to you, but things are getting hazy. You don't know if this is because of the tears or something else, but you relish it, because here you don't have to think about the fact that the girl you love just died in your arms.

** end flashback **

It's the next night and you find yourself walking (because your mum hid your keys to stop you from driving in this condition) to the Berry's house. You arrive outside and stumble up the path, not caring that you just stood on some flowers from their garden. You bring your hand up to the polished wood and knock only twice. For a moment there is silence, and then you hear movement in the house. The door opens a crack and you see the tear-stained face of one of her dad's - the smaller one - peering out at you.

"M-Mr Berry. I was…I was just w-wondering if I could…go up to…to Rachel's…um…actually, I'm sorry, never mind," you mumble, your voice raw and hoarse from the constant sobbing. You turn to walk away but a hand catches your wrist.

You turn back to face him and see that the door is now wide open. He tugs you inside and you both just stand there for a moment. Then he nods and gestures to the stairs. You take them two at a time, but then when you are at her door, you just kind of stand there. You put your hand on the doorhandle, but do not turn it. It's then that you realise that you are scared. Scared of what you will find in there. Scared that you'll open it and the Berry's will have already cleaned up her room (even though _deep down_, you know that this will not be the case). Scared that you'll open it and then never be able to leave, because if you do, what will you have to remember her by?

You take a deep breath and turn the handle. The door swings inward and you close your eyes. You stand there for a moment, just breathing her scent, but then you take a step towards her room. You open your eyes, because the last thing you need is to fall over and wreck her dresser, or something, because god knows how clumsy you are. You shut the door behind you and turn back to look at the room properly. It's just as she would have left it yesterday morning; mostly neat and tidy, but with her brush laying on her bed, a pair of shoes on the floor, a pile of sheet music spread out on her dresser, and other little things that made this room lived in. All the wind is knocked out of you when you realise that you just admitted that this room _used_ to have someone living in it. Past tense. Shit…how is this fair? How is _any_ of this fair?

Being in her room now, while making you sad, is also a little bit good (or at least better than being in your room), because here you can close your eyes and smell her on everything and pretend, even if just for a second, that she is still here. You lean back against her dresser, perhaps a little harder than you intended and you open your eyes to see that there is a light coming from behind you. You turn around and see that her laptop must have been left on and that it must have been on 'hibernate' until someone bumped the USB mouse that she had attached. You pull it down onto your lap and even though you think that maybe this could be an invasion of privacy, you realise that you just need to see her again. You know that she would have her myspace videos uploaded on this laptop, but you can't view them from home because you don't have a myspace and even if you made one now, you wouldn't be able to 'friend' her.

You spend a few hours watching all of the videos, and by the time you have gone through all of them, you are sobbing again. You wish you owned a USB, but then it occurs to you that you never paid attention in Computer Studies and so never learnt how to use one anyway. You close her laptop and shakily stand up. Just before you leave her room, you take a look around and grab a cardigan that is sitting atop her hamper. Her fathers have gone to bed (or at least, to their bedroom) so you let yourself out, still sobbing. As you are walking, you look up to see your mother's car sitting in the street; she is asleep in the front seat.

You open the door and slide in, causing her to wake with a start. She fixes a worried look on you, but then starts the car and drives you home.

"How long?" you ask softly, but she just looks confused, "How long were you waiting, I mean? For me."

"Oh…maybe half an hour," she murmurs. You can tell that she keeps sneaking sideways glances at you as you drive, but you don't speak again until you have arrived back home, and even then it's just to say goodnight.

It's another two weeks before you go back to school. It would have been less, but her funeral just destroyed you and you couldn't get out of bed, no matter what your mother said to you. The first day back, you avoid the whole block that the choir room is in. You drift through classes, paying even less attention than usual. It's at lunch that you have your first freak-out. You walk into the cafeteria, not really paying attention to what you are putting on your tray, and then turn around to sit at the first table that you pass that isn't full. When you look up for the first time, your heart clenches just a little. The whole Glee Club is sitting at the one table that you knew you would avoid. The whole Glee Club…except for _her_.

It occurs to you that this is strange simply for the fact that usually the Glee Club wouldn't sit all together anyway and you wonder how long this has been going on. But the thing that bothers you so much is that they're sitting at her table. It's the one right in the corner where Rachel usually sits. Alone. Sometimes you used to join her, but then things got awkward when you screwed up again, so you laid off for a while. No one else in Glee, except for (very occasionally) Tina, Artie, Mercedes and Kurt - and you are fairly sure that Kurt (and probably Mercedes) only sat there because of Tina and Artie sitting there. The point is, this is _her _table, and the fact that they feel like they can sit here so that they can be a _club_ makes you sick because they never seemed to care about that before. And sure, you were no better, but you're not the one stealing her table and making out like you cared (which you did, make no mistake, but most of them _didn't_, and you guess that's the point you're trying to make).

You hear someone saying your name and notice that the whole Club is staring at you. You realise that you have been standing in the same spot, staring at _them_ for at least five minutes now. But you just…you can't move. Your head is screaming at you to run far away from the cafeteria, but your feet won't listen. You feel your heart beating hard in your chest, and your breathing gets faster. You hear your name again, and that's what breaks you. Dropping your tray, you leg it out of the cafeteria and to the closest bathroom, where you promptly throw up. Resting your forehead against the cool walls of the toilet stall, even though it's probably crawling with, like, heaps of bacteria and stuff, you pull out your wallet and dig through it until you reach the picture of her. It's just her school photo, but that's because you don't have a camera and so it was the only one you could get hold of without too much trouble.

You are suddenly struck by the desire to be closer to her. Of course, you have always wanted to be close to her, especially since that awful day, but you think now, maybe, if you go somewhere where she liked to be, you can feel a _little_ bit closer to her. So you head for the auditorium. You don't think you could handle the choir room.

You walk in and make your way up to the stage where you sit down and dangle your feet over the edge. You take a deep breath and close your eyes so that you can picture her performing more easily. You reach into your letterman jacket pocket and pull out a plastic wrapped bundle. Taking off the plastic bag, you unfold the cardigan that it contains and once again you can smell her. You keep it wrapped in plastic so that maybe her smell will stay for longer. You don't know if that will work, but you don't think it can hurt.

It's funny; all the time you spent around her before, you never realised that she had such a distinctive smell. Now, however, you know it so well that you wonder how that never occurred to you. It's the smell of…ok, so you're not _that_ good - you can't pick the individual smells - but they all combine to make _her_ smell and that's something that you don't think you'll ever forget for as long as you live.

You will never forget a _lot_ of things about her, and that is how you are so sure that she will never be entirely gone from your life.

**A/N This was so incredibly difficult to write. I don't know why. Perhaps it's because I have never attempted to write for Finn before. Or maybe it's because this is such an important chapter and I didn't want to screw it up… Either way, I hope you liked it :D**

**Also I know that this doesn't exactly follow the structure of the video (as someone so kindly personal messaged to me *cough*flamer*cough*), but it's only supposed to be loosely based. I have discussed this with the maker of the video, courtsgleelove, and she has, in fact, read the chapters so that I know that she is ok with them.**

**-Alphabet**


	3. Puck

PPOV

It freaks you out.

It _really_ freaks the _shit_ out of you.

Because you have dreamed of girls before. All the time, actually. It's just…usually they're wearing a lot less.

These dreams freak you out because of the person who is starring in them. Not to say that dreaming about Berry is weird for you, but…you're just not used to the…the _caring_ feeling that surges through you while you are dreaming, and _definitely_ not the horrible, empty feeling that comes around when you've woken up.

You miss her. You miss her a lot. Like…a _whole_ fucking lot. That's weird too, 'cos you never really knew her. Like, you _knew_ her, but there was so much that you _didn't_ know. Even though you "dated" her for a week, and (apparently) you got some stupid, fucking nickname - Puckaberry, or some shit - you never really talked to her. That is something that you will regret for the rest of your life. When you come to this realisation, you think that that is some fucked up shit, because who the hell are you to regret not being friends with her? Who the fuck do you think you are? You're the one who made her life so fucking miserable.

It's a new thing for you to be thinking about a girl so much when you know the thoughts are not and never will turn dirty. The only reason you had before to think about a girl this much was if she was being a flirt but withholding the goods. Or if you were horny.

And why the fuck don't you feel more embarrassed by how fucking scared you were? You are McKinley's resident BAMF, but as soon as you got out of that fucking choir room, you burst into tears like a little girl. You just…you don't feel ashamed, because she meant something to you. Even if you _didn't_ really know her.

**flashback**

Your heart is beating a mile a minute as the cop leads you from the room. Through the jumble of hazy thoughts tumbling through your head, only a few things register. The tears running down your face, the hysterical half-sob, half-screams of Quinn, the stony face of Kurt and the…the red, the _blood_ that you just…it's _hers _and there's…there's just so _much_ of it, and you have no idea how all of that blood came out of such a tiny person. And you can't comprehend that Rachel - the girl who stopped for nothing and no one - is not being led out of this room with the rest of you. No. She is still in there. On the cold, hard floor. Covered in a sheet. And you cannot, for the life of you, work out why those two other dickheads are still in there with her. In fact if you had not been so weak at the knees, you would have hoisted them over your shoulder and taken them to the nearest trash compacter. 'Cos she deserves better.

Suddenly you feel pressure on the hand that you didn't realise you were clenching, and you look down sluggishly to see another hand there. The hand belongs to Tina. You look at her, but she is not looking at you. You think that maybe she doesn't even realise that she has grabbed your hand, that she just needed some goddam _contact_, because god knows _you_ need it. So you hold onto her like her life depends on it, and you don't look away from her. Eventually she turns to look at you, and you notice that her whole fucking face is whiter than any healthy person should be. If Figgins saw her now, he would probably just keel over and die, rather than have his blood sucked out of him by the queen of the undead or whatever the fuck he believes she is.

Her eyes lock onto yours and you think that your face must mirror hers, because she looks shocked to see you like this. You think that maybe it's because she has never seen you cry. Hell, _no one_ has seen you cry. Even your _mother_ hasn't seen you cry in over six years, at least. But none of this registers in your mind even for a second, 'cos Tina is still looking at you and you're still looking at her, and neither of you wants to look away. Your other hand reaches out blindly, groping the air, and you clumsily grab the hand of someone else. Whoever it is doesn't seem to mind, because they are suddenly clinging to you like a lifeline. In a mammoth effort, you look away from Tina and turn to see that you are holding the hand of Matt. And you don't even care. It never crosses your mind that at any other given time, you would never be caught dead holding another guy's hand. You see that his other hand is occupied by Mercedes', and hers by Mike's. That is as far as the chain stretches, however, because everyone else seems to have formed their own groups. Artie is being wheeled by a paramedic, and Santana and Brittany are clinging to each other, both looking as though they are in shock. Kurt is determinedly looking straight ahead and acknowledging no one, his eyes looking dead and hollow. Quinn is stumbling blindly, still in hysterics, as a paramedic tries to calm her down enough to get her to an ambulance without fainting. Mr Schue is talking to an EMT, trying his hardest not to fall apart, trying to be the adult. You think that he shouldn't worry about that right now, and that he is allowed to be upset, but then what the fuck do you know? And Finn…oh jesus, Finn. Well he's collapsed against a wall about halfway back down the corridor, and you don't know why you didn't notice that happen. He isn't in hysterics like Quinn, and he isn't looking like nothing happened, like Kurt. He isn't holding hands with anyone for comfort, he's just…he isn't functioning. He's a fucking train-wreck, but you aren't surprised; he fucking loved the girl - he told you just yesterday, even though you two still weren't on great terms. And jesus christ, she just fucking _died_ in his arms. And he's just…he's covered in her _blood_, and that's some twisted shit right there, you think.

Suddenly everything is rushing at you and you are trying to take it all in, but you can't…you just…you fucking _can't_!

**end flashback**

You wake up half a day later in a hospital bed and they told you that you had gone into shock, which caused you to faint. You find out that Quinn had had to be sedated 'cos her sobbing had just gotten louder and she had been absolutely panic-stricken. Pretty much everyone else went into shock, but you were the only one that fainted. You feel ashamed, but its not because you passed out; it's because of everyone in the group, you have the least right to be hit this hard.

You are _not_ ashamed, however, to say that you miss her. Because you do, and that's normal, you think.

The next time Glee Club is all together is her funeral. You always thought you were the type to bottle up your emotions, and you usually are, but this…this is just too…god, you don't even know what. So you sit there as tears fall down your face in an uninterrupted stream. This time you don't hold anyone's hand, but you do put your hand on Finn's shoulder as a sign of support, as he is sitting in the row in front of you. He doesn't shrug you off, and you think that this means that this is the first time that you two are good, but then it occurs to you that he just doesn't care. And you think that you would rather have Rachel back with Finn and everyone hating you than this. Anything but this. You wish that you could have taken her place. Anyone would say she was tiny, but she looked even smaller in death, and that's just bullshit.

You wonder what it is that you miss most about her. It could be her long, dark hair, or her overly peppy attitude. It could be the legs that looked a mile long, but only stood her at, like, 3 feet tall, and that's like some kind of mindfuck, you think, because how can a girl with such long legs be so, _so_ small? But it's none of those things. Not really. You just…you miss her because…fuck, you've never been good with words…it's the way she made you feel about yourself, and the way that she really looked out for everyone in Glee, even if sometimes she showed that in a weird way. She was a good person. The best, really. And this is it. They're lowering her body into the ground, and this is the last time you're ever going to see her. Her fathers each throw a handful of dirt into the big, gaping hole in the ground that is screaming out to you, taunting you. Because it's taken your Rachel. As people around you do the same thing, slowly filling her hole (and you're so fucked up that you don't even think about twisting that into something sexual), you just stand there and let yourself get jostled and nearly bumped to the floor.

The cemetery is empty when you finally pluck up the courage to bend down for a handful of dirt. And you stand there and you look down into the hole, and you whisper four words. Only four.

"I'll never forget you."

**A/N So short chapter, I know, but that's because I think that, really, Puck is a man of few words. And maybe this is more than a **_**few**_** words, but you get the picture.**

**And ok, let's all just clear something up. The same flamer that I mentioned at the conclusion of Finn's chapter took the time to message me again and informed me in much harsher words that the character of Finn (and probably Puck, to an extent) does not utilise that same calibre of vocabulary with which I have provided him. There is a reason for this and it is as follows: this story is from the second person, not first person. Ergo, I am not writing directly from their thoughts and the words you are reading are not being strung together by the characters. They are being strung together by **_**me**_**, the author. I apologise if this sounds rude, but I will not tolerate flamers who do not even know what they are talking about, especially those who do not wish to share their comments with the public. The fact that I was private messaged tells me that said flamer is at least a **_**little**_** ashamed or embarrassed by what they wrote and thus my hope for mankind is not entirely decimated.**

**-Alphabet**


	4. Kurt

KPOV

You relive it almost every night.

Back there. In the choir room.

You know that it should have been you. As they were walking over to claim their hostage, they had looked right at you and started heading over, but then she had sobbed. Changing direction, they went for her. They went for her, and she died. And it was all your fault. It still is your fault. That is why you have grown to fear sleep; you fear where it takes you.

**flashback**

You hear a gunshot from outside and this makes you flinch, but then you hear a much closer gunshot and hear a scream. You know that she has been shot, but the three levels of bleachers are blocking your view of her. You hear the men shouting at one another, but nothing really registers. What does register is the third gunshot that you hear, and you wonder who has been shot this time, but then you look back at the two men and realise that there is only one standing; his gun is raised.

Hearing a scrabbling noise from in front of you, you see Finn holding something in front of him, and when you hear a fourth gunshot, you realise that he must have picked up the gun that the dead guy dropped. The remaining criminal falls to the floor. You know he's dead when the rest of the group begins to rush over to where your fallen comrade must be. As you slowly stagger to your feet, you see Mercedes offering you a hand and you take it as you both walk numbly over to where Glee Club is gathered.

Your eyes lock onto her and, of all the hazy thoughts running errant through your mind, the only thing that really registers is 'red is so not her colour'. Perhaps it's because that's the only thing that is not too horrible to actually acknowledge. But after that, your mind goes kind of fuzzy and you find that you are barely capable of thought at all. You hardly even remember what happens after this, but you do know that at some point Finn begins screaming her name.

**end flashback**

You are later told that you went into shock, and that is why you couldn't think straight. Still...you are appalled at the fact that you have had extensive first aid training (and apparently no one else in Glee had), and yet you just stood there. You stood there and watched the girl die.

You wonder if there was anything that you could have done - anything at all to keep her alive long enough for paramedics to help her - though it's too late for that; you'll never know, but you'll always, _always_ wonder.

It pains you further to know that this isn't the first instance of you letting her down. Oh no, not by a long shot. Everyone always wonders why the pair of you didn't get along like a house on fire. You had so much in common; no mother, love of show tunes, Diva personalities, severe cases of bullying, hell, you even had a crush on the same guy. But deep down you know it's these things that drove you apart. You both filled the same niche, and so you each felt like the other was encroaching on your territory. But despite knowing this, you know that she didn't deserve how you treated her.

Behind her bossy, abrasive, demanding, loud, melodramatic, interfering exterior, was a girl who just wanted to be accepted by someone. You could have given this to her, but instead you chose to be a bitch to her. It wasn't even as if you just ignored her, you actually went out of your way to be harsh and cruel to her. You were never any better than the jocks that slushied her.

You remember, with unforgiving clarity, the time you offered to give her a make-over. She trusted you. Not only that, but she counted you as a friend. But you...you threw it back in her face. As if you were Brutus and she was Caesar. You were the final conspirator to stab her, high in the ribcage, and you remember that look she gave you as you walked away, as if to say, 'Et tu, Brute.' The final stab telling her that she had no friends. Even a homosexual, glee kid like you was above her, she was not worth your time.

Even after all that you did to her, she never seemed to hate you, or even resent you. This, you think, is what made her a better person than you.

That is why you have not thought her name since...since she died. You don't want people to make the mistake that you were friends with her. Not because you would be ashamed to be her friend, but because you don't feel that you deserve to claim friendship. It would be an insult to her.

"Kurt...will you just talk to me?" your father is asking you, a sorrowful look gracing his features, "It's been three days and you haven't said anything. I'm worried Kurt...I'm so...please just talk to me."

You look up at him, tears pricking at your eyes, hot and uncomfortable. Burt extends a shaky hand and rests it on your shoulder. In that one touch he seems to be letting you know that it's ok, it's ok to cry. To feel upset. So you don't hesitate to wrap your arms around your father, sobbing openly into his shoulder.

"I'm sure she wouldn't want you to be like this...to go...silent," there is a slight waver in his voice, as though he is unused to giving advice.

You shake your head furiously, as if to tell your dad that you were awful to her, and you expect your dad's grip to loosen and for him to ask what you mean, but instead he just hugs you tighter.

"We all do things we regret Kurt," he tells you solemnly, and you wonder why he isn't giving better advice, but then he says, "It's not your fault."

You struggle against him, because yes it is your fault, but he won't let you get loose.

"It's not your fault," he tells you again.

Your world begins to crash down around you. Your self-constructed safe-haven. A place where you didn't have to deal with anything. Not thinking about it meant that it didn't happen. It is this place that allowed you to stop thinking her name and this place that allowed you to ignore Finn when you saw him sobbing as the police escorted you out of the choir room. Because that's how quickly you constructed this place. You left that room and the walls went up. You never intended for them to be torn down so easily, and yet here you are, in your too-white-room and your father is telling you that it's not your fault. And the walls just break.

"I couldn't help her!" you tell your dad in a half-sob, half-scream.

"It's not your fault Kurt," he murmurs, though his voice is strong.

"Oh God, dad...I...the nightmares!" you are full-on sobbing now, to the point of not being able to take a proper breath.

Then he says it once more and something in you snaps. The last remnants of wall are obliterated and you have nothing to hide behind, "It's not your fault."

"Oh God! Rachel! I'm sorry!" you are screeching now, but you don't care who hears. Three days of angst, anger and pain are finally being let loose, and you can hardly control what you are saying.

Your dad is still holding you as tight as humanly possible, and you feel like it's the only thing tethering you to real life. Words have ceased and you've just begun to spout unintelligible sounds, but your dad seems to understand, because he just says, "It's ok Kurt. Just let it out."

"Rachel...Rachel..." her name still sounds foreign on your lips, like it shouldn't be there, but you find that that's all you can say. Sobbing her name brokenly won't bring her back - this you know - but you think that you never want to forget the way it sounds.

You never want to forget her.

**A/N This was surprisingly tricky to write. Usually I like writing for Kurt, but this was kind of...different. Oh well, let me know what you guys think; good? Bad? Boil 'em? Mash 'em? Stick 'em in a stew?**

By the way: The reference to Julius Caesar (the play) (for those that are unfamiliar with the story) simply alludes to the fact that Caesar was stabbed by the man he thought to be his friend, Brutus. Caesar was stabbed over 30 times by many different conspirators, but Brutus was really the only one he considered a close friend. After Brutus stabbed him, he said "Et tu, Brute" just before he died, which meant "You too, Brutus?". This is taken slightly out of context, since Brutus thought he was doing it for the good of Rome, and not to be spiteful, but it seemed to fit never-the-less. And there's your history lesson for today :D

NOTE: The earlier reference to Kurt as homosexual is not meant (though the context suggests it) in a derogatory way, as in homosexuals are somehow inferior or should be lower on the social hierarchy, it is simply a reference to how they are treated by the kids at McKinley High; no disrespect meant!


	5. Mr Schuester

SchPOV

This is…well it's something you never imagined you would have to witness.

People have always told you that you were sensitive (some in a more harsh way than others *cough* Sue *cough*) and you used to think of it as a good trait. This is the first time that you think that maybe it isn't such a good thing.

You're supposed to be the teacher - the one in charge, in control - but seeing her, lying there coated in her own blood destroyed you a little bit. You hate seeing people hurt, so seeing a life obliterated before your very eyes… And you aren't quite sure how you're supposed to recover from this. She was a child. A goddamn _child_!

It's when you're driving - on the way home from her funeral - that it really hits you harder than before. You're driving down the main road when you pass a billboard. It shouldn't set you off, but god_dammit_ it does. It's pretty simple. It's got a light blue background and a smiling cow to the left. It's what's on the right of the billboard that caused your meltdown; a stick of butter. The brand? Western Star.

_She_ was going to be a star. You know it. You _know_ that that's what she was destined for, and now she's…well she's…in the ground. The funeral was awful and you just couldn't get over how small her coffin was. You looked at it and the first thing that came to your head was 'Was she really that small?'. The first time you heard her sing, you half thought that she was lip-synching, because how could such a big voice come out of such a little body? When you were forced to conclude that it was, in fact, her own voice, you felt that she could really go places, as long as she had the proper attitude. As Glee progressed and the club grew and you found out more about her character, you _knew_ that she was destined for greatness. Everything that she was working towards, no matter how outrageous the claim, you knew that she would get there. She had the determination, and she was nothing if not insanely talented. You knew that she would get out of Lima, and she would do it soon.

But it's too late for that now.

So here you are, having a huge breakdown in the front seat of your car, your chest heaving and your breathing laboured, punctuated sporadically with an odd cross between a hiccup and a sob. You don't think you've ever cried this hard and you've certainly never had this strange ragged feeling sitting right in your chest. It's been there ever since that Monday, and you don't know how long it's going to stay.

** flashback **

You are later told that the gunshot from outside was from a cop who accidentally pulled the trigger upon seeing Rachel being quickly pulled form the window. He didn't mean to do it. Still…you hate him just a little.

The gunshot from within the room seems to reverberate around inside your brain and things seem to be moving in slow motion as the bullet flies towards her. As soon as it has made contact, you see her face contort into a look of pain and shock. She still hasn't quite gotten her breath back, and so no sound escapes her gaping mouth.

Cotton wool seems to gather in your ears as the arguing from the two guys becomes slightly muffled, but you are not looking at them, you are still fixated on her. She looks terrified now - with good reason - and you want nothing more than to be able to go over there and take away her pain. She doesn't deserve this. No one deserves this. The moment Finn shoots the second guy, you are up off the floor and running to her. Finn is the only one who reaches her before you. You know you have tears coating your face but you ignore them, instead focusing on assuming the role of adult-in-charge. This is very difficult because her soft whimpers of pain are shooting through you like a thousand red hot knives.

For one fleeting moment you think that maybe she will survive this - after all, it was only one shot - but then you wonder why you are trying to kid yourself, because you can see how much blood she's losing, and you know that this one bullet has hit something important. As paramedics run into the room, you know it is too late for Rachel, because her body is already limp in Finn's hands. You wonder why this is so easy for you to accept, but then you realise that it isn't _easy_, it's just that you're trying so hard to remove yourself from the situation, to become the responsible adult, that you are almost viewing it from an outside perspective. This is a bad thing, you think, because that means that later on, it's going to hit you that much harder. But it's for the kids. They need someone strong right now.

So you go to an EMT and you start talking, and they start asking you questions, since they need to know what happened. You see Puck glance at you, but then you are focusing so hard on keeping it together, that you block out everyone and everything except the man that is still asking you questions. But it's not as simple now. It's getting harder to keep yourself removed from your own reality, and you know it. It's starting to sink in, you think, and…and _god_, you just witnessed three people get killed. Three whole people wiped off the face of the planet, one of whom you loved like a daughter. Forever. And you think that forever has never seemed like such a terrible word. But it is. You don't know how you never realised that before.

** end flashback **

And here you are, in your car, on the side of the road…and you don't know what you're supposed to do. Do you stop crying, pull yourself together and drive home? Are you allowed to stay here for a bit and try to stop your mind from reeling quite so far? What is the correct protocol here? You've never been in this situation before - never really _lost _someone - and so…so what do you do?

How are you supposed to keep living your life when a billboard about fucking _butter_ makes you break down?

And you get scared.

Because…because you _don't_ know. You don't know a _lot_ of things, and how are you supposed to move on from this if you don't even know what the hell you're supposed to be doing? Is there someone you can ask about this stuff? Usually you would go to Emma with your problems, but that's because you sort of have a thing for her. It's seems like if you talked to her about _this_, it might…trivialise Rachel's death. Because whenever you did go and talk to Emma, you focused on the fact that you were talking to her, connecting with her, and now the two just go hand in hand in your mind. You don't have a wife anymore, and you certainly can't talk to the kids, because they're grieving too.

And dammit all, you're supposed to be the _adult_! You have no idea why you're so hung up on this idea, because you're allowed to be upset as well, this you know, but you just…you think that maybe this is your mind's way of stopping the sensitive in you from taking over and absolutely destroying you.

Then, in a moment of strange clarity, it occurs to you that maybe you need to _let_ yourself get destroyed. At the moment you're barely hanging on, and you need to just surrender to grief, so that then maybe you can eventually build yourself back up and accept what has happened.

So you steel yourself for a moment and peer down from the ledge that you are barely holding on to. Then you jump.

You see now that you had been holding back, and what you thought was a breakdown, was nowhere near the magnitude of what a real breakdown could be. It's only ten minutes later, when you are beginning to calm down a bit, that you notice that you are seeing through new eyes. You are no longer trying to fool yourself into believing that you have to be everyone else's rock, and you are letting yourself bare your soul, even though no one is around to witness it. And it makes you feel less suffocated. For the first time in a long time you think that maybe, just _maybe_, things might one day be ok. Not good, but ok.

You start your car again and begin the drive back to your apartment. As you drive, you continue to think about her. All the things you will miss about her start to assemble themselves into a list in your mind. Her thousand watt smile, her unwavering enthusiasm, her drive for success, her ability to care about so many people - whether they deserved it or not, her tremendous talent, her belief in herself…so many things that made her…and _still _make her, Rachel Berry.

These are characteristics that you will never forget. You will always, _always_ remember her.

**A/N I think that I am happy with the way this story is going :D Feel free to review and let me know whether or not my chapters are too short. If they are, I'll see what I can do. They are all already written, but perhaps I could try to add in a bit more to each chapter, since the remaining chapters are each about this long. Of course, if there is a chapter that I am happy with, I probably won't add to it, but let me know either way and I'll try my best to keep you all happy (though I generally don't take requests, unless it's for a new story that you would like me to attempt).**

**Happy reading!**

**-Alphabet**


	6. Quinn

QPOV

You don't think you've ever been this messed up.

Not when you fell pregnant, not when you were kicked out of your childhood home, not when you gave up your baby girl, not when your life was falling apart before your very eyes. Because it wasn't. Not really. You only see that now, however, because it's only now that you can see that, while your life may have gotten a little bit fractured, it was nowhere _near_ falling apart. You know this _now_ because _now_ your life really _is_ falling apart.

You forget how to function, you forget to wake up sometimes, other times you forget to go to bed at all. You forget to eat and you forget how to walk. You are crippled. Crippled by guilt. And you don't think you'll ever really recover. But that's only because you've forgotten that you try not to think anymore. You try not to think, because there is one thing that you will never, as long as you live, regardless of whether you live to one-hundred-and-five or if God strikes you down where you lie, right then and there, yes there is one thing that you will never forget. It seems ironic to you that this is the one thing that you want to forget, above all else, but is also the one thing that God will never allow you to have reprieve from.

It is your punishment, and you will try to accept it.

When you were a little girl growing up and your parents punished you for taking the Lord's name in vain, or pulling your sister's hair, you would always accept it like a proper grown-up girl and sit quietly in your room until your mother came to get you. You try to remember what made it so easy to do that, but, funnily enough, you have forgotten that too, and so instead you just cry.

** flashback **

You're in…you're in shock. Surely you haven't just witnessed the death of Rachel Berry. Surely, _surely_ it's just…you've dozed off and this…well it's a nightmare. _Obviously. _And how does one wake themself up from a nightmare? They scream.

So you do.

You scream as loud as you can, and you expect to wake up, drenched in cold sweat, sitting bolt upright in your bed. You aren't pregnant, you haven't been kicked out of home and Rachel Berry is not dead. She's not. Except that now someone else is screaming. And it's her name, they're screaming her _name_, and you just…it's real and it's happening. It's not playing out the way you expected it to, and now you're stuck in this horrible nightmare. You close your eyes and continue to scream so that the nightmare will realise that you are ready to wake up now, you're ready, you can wake up, you…you can _wake up_, you just want to _WAKE UP. _But it's ignoring you.

When you open your eyes, you really wish you had turned around first, because you see her then, and she is absolutely drenched in red. For one absurd moment, you think that she could have simply been doused with a cherry slushie, but you can't see any ice around, and you're still screaming, and why would you be screaming about a slushie?

Very soon and without you realising it, you are sobbing. But no one is paying any attention to you. It's not that you care about that, but it unnerves you, because you think that that must mean that something is _seriously_ wrong. Like…like that maybe Rachel is going to die. That cannot be possible, you think, because it was…it was only one shot. And…and furthermore, she's _Rachel. _You think that it would take at least…_twelve_ shots to kill her. Because…because then someone could write some…abstract musical about her and…and how her demise correlates with each month of the year. Or…or maybe her beginning (and ending, you unwittingly tag on) in a school Glee Club with _twelve_ members. It makes sense. It makes perfect sense. So why, then, has no one told you to calm down because Rachel isn't going to die? Why would _no one_ think to tell you that?

Then you wonder two things. First of all, when did she cease to be Berry, or Manhands, or RuPaul, or Treasure Trail, and simply become Rachel? And second, why the heck can't you stop sobbing?

** end flashback **

You wonder why, out of all of the people in that room who witnessed…well, witnessed what happened, you wonder why you were the one who went into hysterics and had to be sedated. You always thought you were so strong. You dealt with teen-pregnancy and all the extra drama that that entailed, and you did it all with minimal tears, so you're strong…no, really, you are.

Except that you're not.

And you hate yourself then, because not only have you failed to live up to your own expectations, but you have fallen to pieces over a girl that you never even really _liked_. That's just…well…it's _insulting_…to her, you mean. After all the support she gave you, in your time of need, it's only after she _died_ that you started to care. But that's…well it's not really true, you suppose, because even though you might not have liked her, you cared enough about her as a human being that you wished her well in _life_. And then you hate yourself a little bit more, because you sound like a real bitch (which you are, but not about things like this). What you _mean_, is that you…well you didn't hate her, and this is the key thing, you think. You were starting to come round. Because you _used _to hate her. So that meant that you were on your way to maybe, sort of, building a…a sort of a…tolerance for Rachel Berry. And then tolerance would lead to friendship, maybe. It's just…well you thought you'd have more time. You were _supposed_ to have more time.

But time doesn't matter now because you've forgotten what time even means.

You know that at some point Santana appeared randomly at your house and told you to come to the park with her. You think that perhaps Santana is a bit softer than she lets on. Except that it ended badly because she kept saying 'Berry' and you thought it was rude, so you yelled at her and told her to say 'Rachel' because the girl is fucking _dead_ and she deserves it.

* * *

It doesn't take as long as you thought to get up the courage to go back to school. Maybe you _are_ sort of strong. Or maybe you just couldn't stand the suffocating isolation of being alone with your grief. Either way, here you are. You aren't exactly comfortable with being here, but then you don't really know if you will _ever _be comfortable here again.

It's when you walk into the cafeteria that you see who in Glee has attended school, and who has continued to stay at home. The first sweep of the room tells you that Finn has stayed at home - though that was expected - and that Mike, Artie, Tina, Mercedes, Santana and Brittany are at school. A second sweep reveals the stooped figure of Matt at a table at the back of the room. It's the smallest table in the cafeteria, and you realise that it was Rachel's table. You get your lunch and you walk straight past the larger gathering of Gleeks to sit with Matt. You perch gingerly on the bench, half expecting Matt to tell you to go away, but he barely even acknowledges your presence. You both eat in silence and then part ways.

The next day, Matt is, again, sitting at her table, although this time he is joined by Mike. You sit with both of them. Not a word is exchanged.

The next day, a noticeably thinner Mercedes and a very ruffled-looking Kurt have joined the table.

The day after that, the whole Glee Club, minus Finn and, of course, Rachel are silently eating their lunches at her table. You wonder if maybe she would not like this, because very few people would agree to sit at her table when she was seated at it, but now that she is gone, they seem to have no problem with it, but then you realise that you didn't know her well enough to be able to figure this out and so you continue to sit there.

Finn returns to school about four days later. You see him drift through his classes, as you share most of your morning ones with him, and then again in the cafeteria, you watch him, along with the rest of the club, as he walks between the tables, looking for a place to sit. It's when he is about ten feet from you that he finally looks up. As soon as his eyes lock onto the group of you, his gaze passing from you on the far left to Mercedes on the far right, he freezes. His knuckles turn white as they grip the tray, but he just continues to stare at you all. You see that he is close to hyperventilating, but he doesn't seem to notice. Then you say something. It is the first word that has been spoken at this table since you all started sitting there. Nothing eloquent…just his name.

His eyes snap to you and seem to refocus. His mouth drops open as though he wants to say something and his eyes bulge slightly, but he remains silent. You are starting to get worried, and you very nearly stand up to go to him, but instead you just say his name again. Suddenly he drops his tray right in the middle of the cafeteria and then turns and sprints out of there as fast as he can.

None of you sit at her table again.

You think that maybe there are better ways to remember her anyway.

**A/N Wowsies. This one started out sort of shakily, but then I really got onto a roll and I'm fairly happy with the way this turned out :D**

**Anyhow, how did you, oh Mighty Reader, how did **_**you**_** find it? Good? Bad? Boil 'em? Mash 'em? Sitck 'em in a stew?**

**-Alphabet**


	7. Santana and Brittany

**A/N This is a dual-chapter with Santana and Brittany. But hey, that just means more chapter for you! :D**

SPOV

You're a bitch.

It's as simple as that.

You're a bitch, but you do have a heart. You've always secretly admired Rachel Berry's determination and ability to not care what others thought of her. Of course, you also hated her guts, so you never even entertained the thought of being nice to her. But it was certainly refreshing to be presented with a challenge.

No matter how many times you slushied Berry, or sassed her, or called her names, she never seemed to lose faith in herself. There was not one other person in school that could withstand your efforts so easily. At least…that's the attitude she gave off. You don't know whether or not she was a little bit broken on the inside, but you think that a girl with that much heart could never be defeated.

Except by a bullet.

One single bullet.

Every time you think back to it, no matter how much you try not to, you think that after all she withstood, after all the quasi-respect she had gained from you, she was wiped off the face of this planet by _one fucking bullet_. Now that's either carelessness on her part, or it's the biggest fucking faux pas that the universe ever thought up. And you think that Berry deserved better.

You find that even though, for some inexplicable reason, you actually _miss_ her, you still refer to her as Berry. You don't mean it in a bad way, it's just that's what you've always called her, so why change it now? Quinn had a go at you at the park just yesterday, saying that you should show her some respect and use her given name, but you think that that would have the opposite effect. You may be a bitch, but you sure as shit know how to show respect. You never called her Rachel while she was alive, so you think that if you started now, it would be exactly the same as pretending that you were friends with her. But you weren't. It's a matter of principle. You do miss her, because even though you hated her, it wasn't really personal, you just hate a lot of people. And yeah, ok, so she annoyed the shit out of you, but that's just what she was like. She annoyed a _lot_ of people, so it's not like she went out of your way to annoy you specifically.

But you don't really care about all of that. Shit, it's not like you put a lot of thought into what happened. Berry got shot and Berry died. End of story.

And then you wonder when you became so callous. You wonder if maybe you're trying so hard to be yourself, to be if-you-look-at-me-wrong-I'll-make-sure-it's-the-last-thing-you-do-Santana, that you are losing sight of your feelings (because, despite popular belief, you _do_ have them). You just…she didn't _mean_ anything to you, so why do you feel this way?

And that's another thing you aren't used to…not knowing the answer. Usually even if you don't have an answer, you'd make up some bullshit one…but you find that on this particular occasion…you can't do that. Hell, you don't _want_ to do that. Because then if you're wrong…then you might have to face up to the fact that maybe…just _maybe_ she had been growing on you, just a little. And you aren't ready for that.

But then…maybe she _had_ been growing on you. God only knows how many tears you've shed since it happened. And you damn near lost it completely at her funeral. It just…it seemed so empty. The Jewish don't do flowers, so you just…it was so _bare_. It was all you could do to not to turn your phone back on and call up a florist right then and there.

But…but you didn't, because you are Santana Lopez, and you don't do scared. You don't do upset, you don't do vulnerable, and you don't do helpless.

Except…you do. In fact you've done all of those things quite frequently over the past week. Then you are kind of angry. At her. At Berry. Because who the fuck does she think she is to change you like this? And you think that she should just back the fuck off. Only…she can't. Because she's dead and there's nothing you can do to change that, and you've never felt more helpless, vulnerable or upset in your life.

For the first time since you've known Rachel Berry, you think that maybe instead of the burning desire to forget her as soon as you part ways after school, you believe that she deserves to be remembered.

* * *

BPOV

You know that you're not the smartest.

But you're smart enough to know what has happened.

You aren't a child and you know that Rachel won't be coming back to school, so you don't know why your mother tried to explain that to you. All you'd said was, "I just want to see her again. I want to go to school and be with her."

Then your mother got this sad look in her eyes and told you in a hushed tone, "Sweetie…Rachel is…she won't be at school when you go back. She's…she's in Heaven now."

For a moment you stare blankly at your mother, and slowly, slowly, you feel rage flowing through you. You're dumb, but you're not _that_ dumb. You know what happens when people die - they don't come back. No matter how much you wish and no matter how much you pray…they're gone. You know this, but you don't think that your mother knows that you know. You find that you don't have the energy to argue with her, because Rachel's funeral is tomorrow and you don't know what you're going to wear and you don't know what's going to happen.

You storm up to your room and fling open your wardrobe. Pulling out hanger after hanger of clothing, you hold up the only black dresses that you own. You think that maybe they are a bit too short to be appropriate for a funeral. You would look totally hot in them, but somehow you don't think that's the point. You think about calling Santana, but she has been weirdly distant since that awful Monday. Instead you sort through your other clothes and as you are looking, you are noticing how bright your clothes are, and then you think that maybe it wouldn't be so bad if you wore something colourful, because Rachel liked colour - or at least you _think_ she did…you didn't talk to her much. You wish that you had thought to ask her what her favourite colour is…was?…and you think that that was a silly mistake for you to make because you never know when you might need to know a friend's favourite colour.

Then it occurs to you that you weren't actually Rachel's friend. You hadn't been for a long, long time. When you met Santana at eight years of age, your friendship had fractured and eventually dissipated. But you _had been_ friends. After all, there are only so many good dance studios in the small town of Lima, Ohio (in fact there was really only one). So really you had known her since you were five years old. And now you're 16, so that's, like…it's…um…like, a really long time. And in all that time, you never thought to ask her favourite colour.

And then you burst into tears again. Because what if you wear your pink dress, but her favourite colour was blue? Or if you wear your yellow dress and her favourite colour was red?

Before you know it, you are in your mother's arms and she is holding you close, rocking you gently.

"What if it's wrong?" you are sobbing, but your mother is confused.

"Sweetie…what if…what if _what's_ wrong?" she asks, and she sounds a bit flustered because she doesn't know how to calm you. Even _you_ don't know how to calm you.

"The colour! What if the colour is wrong?" you wail, "What if I wear a dress tomorrow and it's the wrong colour and she hates me forever? And even when I die, she still hates me and then that guy wearing the dress won't let me into Heaven."

"Oh honey. It's ok. It's ok, I'm sure she won't care _what_ colour you wear…" but she trails off as your sobs renew. So now Rachel doesn't even _care_ about you? "I…Brittany, what if you wear this dress? This nice rainbow coloured one?"

You slowly raise your head and peer at the dress that your mother is pulling at. You shakily get to your feet and hold it up. Then you nod your head softly in approval and collapse back into your mother's arms.

You barely sleep that night, and you find that you don't even really care. You have been trying, and are still trying, to cast your mind back to remember everything about her. You want to cement it all into your brain, and if that means pushing out something that you may have picked up in Spanish, then fine. You know that there isn't much room in there, but you still try your hardest.

When you arrive at the funeral, you tug softly at the hem of your dress as you see that you are the only one that has dressed in a colour other than black. But then you see some people giving you small half-hearted smiles and your confidence returns a little. As soon as you find someone you know, you rush over to them. It's Mike. He looks down at your dress and gives you a tiny, crooked smile. You grab his hand and you see that his red eyes match yours. You walk silently into the building and never once let go of his hand. You glance up at Mike as you walk towards the seating area and he looks back down at you. You open your mouth a little and manage to whisper, "Mike…what's your favourite colour?"

"Um…red. Why?" he asks you, sounding a little unsure.

"I just…I want to remember."

**A/N Oh Brittany. So innocent and naïve. Oh Santana. So…confused. Or at least **_**I**_** think she'd be confused.**

**Either way, let me know what **_**you**_** think, oh valiant reader!**

**-Alphabet**


	8. Artie

APOV

Um…

Your mind is blank. Reeling.

Because she was…she was _there_ and then…well she just _wasn't_.

She's been gone for just over a week now, and you're not doing great.

You've had your fair share of hardships, but nothing has prepared you for this. Then again, you don't suppose there is anything that can prepare you for losing a friend. Because she was a friend, despite what other people thought.

You actually lived right down the street from Rachel, but you never realised it until Glee Club even started. What reason _would _you have to know that? But you do…or you did. And when Glee Club started, after you looked past her loud and abrasive exterior, you found a girl who was just seeking acceptance…and a Tony. And you could relate to that. The acceptance thing, you mean (though a Tony wouldn't go astray). So you talked to her.

You sometimes sat with her while she ate lunch, but only sometimes. You knew that Kurt and Rachel really didn't get along, and you had been friends with Kurt longer than you had been friends with Rachel, so you sat with him more. Your biggest regret in life is the fact that you could have been wonderful friends with her, if only you had put in a bit more effort. But now it's too late for that and you find that your desire to manipulate time has never been so strong - your need to change the past is nearly overwhelming.

At first you wonder why this is, because surely you felt something this strong when you lost the use of your legs. But then, almost immediately, you answer yourself; it's because even though you thought your life was over, it wasn't, but now that a life _is_ over…well it's different. And you start to realise just how much you have taken for granted in this life. The way you just assumed that you would have more time with Rachel. The way you think that the bullying you receive is hard, when really it's only a few slushies and, once, a port-a-potty tumble. The way you think you've had a hard life, and even though, compared to a lot of people, you have, compared to a lot of _other_ people, you've had it easy.

You make a promise to yourself then - that you will never take anything for granted.

It's probably foolish and cliché, but you don't think that you care about that right now, because you really aren't thinking straight anyway, so what does it matter? And anyway, you think that, given the circumstances, you are allowed to be a little foolish and cliché.

You glance around your room and suddenly something catches your eye. You don't know how you missed it before, but then you think that maybe it's because your room was a mess and it's only after your mother cleaned it that you could see _anything _on your desk. It's a picture of the Glee Club after winning Sectionals. Miss Pillsbury made you all gather together and take it so that Mr Schue could have a copy. You reach over, grab it off your desk and study it. She's there and she's smiling widely. Her smile is the biggest and brightest out of all the smiles there. In fact, she seems to be the only one who is _really_ smiling at all. Finn has a sort of dark scowl on his face and Puck is mirroring it, to a slight extent - they are on opposite sides of the group. Quinn is closer to Puck, though not right beside him, and she has this…_tired_ look on her face. You have no idea why Jacob is even in this picture, but he is, and he's just leering at Rachel and you wonder how she never took out a restraining order against him. Everyone else just looks kind of bored. It occurs to you that your gaze keeps drifting back to her, even while you are studying the others. You think this is due either to the fact that she is just intrinsically more interesting to look at, or the fact that you just miss her _so_ much. So fucking much. You wish you could see her smile like that again, because you did always love her smile.

** flashback **

Glee has another year.

Clearly you have misheard Mr Schue, so you shake your head a little to clear it. But then Rachel asks what he means, and you think that it's not possible that you _all_ misheard Mr Schue, because everyone else is looking at him curiously, as though they are asking the same question. He repeats it and now you think that maybe this is just an awful prank.

Only it isn't.

You turn your head to look at Tina and you see that she is looking at you in much the same way; disbelievingly. Then suddenly Rachel has thrown herself at Finn, and Mercedes and Kurt have stood up and are cheering while hugging. Tina also throws herself into your lap and kisses you excitedly. You squeeze her hand and then she pulls back to just smile at you.

You feel…amazing. You never thought Glee could evoke such feelings, but it has, and you find yourself smiling even wider at this realisation. Suddenly Tina is pulled off you by a half-screaming Mercedes and then you find yourself engulfed by a pair of tiny arms. You throw your arms around Rachel and hold her tightly. She tells you how happy she is and smiles at you with her Rachel-Berry-smile™, the one you love so much. You love it because it always makes you feel better, no matter what mood you're in. You discovered this when you first started talking to Rachel and you were in a foul mood because of a low mark in English, even though you had worked very hard on your project. She immediately noticed and asked you what was wrong. After you told her, she smiled at you, and, somehow, your headache lessened a little. Then she told you that she would be only too happy to help and she did so, all the while sporting your favourite smile. The next assignment that you had for English, you got a much better mark.

You almost tell her how much her smile means to you, but then suddenly she is being whisked away by Matt.

** end flashback **

God, you wish more than anything that you had told her that you loved her smile, and that you really did count her as a friend. Well…no…that's not true. You wish more than _anything_ that she was sitting right there beside you, helping you with your English and smiling at you like you mean the world to her. But she's not...and that breaks you a little more.

When she died, a little piece of you died right along with her. You haven't sung a single note since she was silenced forever and you aren't sure whether you will ever sing again. Maybe it's because you never truly appreciated the magnitude of her talent, and now that you will never hear her voice ever again, you don't think that yours deserves to be heard either.

So now you will always endeavour to appreciate everything in your life…never take _anything _for granted…

…and you will always remember the girl with the beautiful smile.

**A/N I always felt that an Archel friendship would be very plausible and also very cute. I think that they would get along well. (Plus I love saying the ship name. Ar-chel. Arrrr-chel. Mmmm :D )**

**But that's just my opinion, so let me know what you think! :D**

**-Alphabet**


	9. Matt and Mike

**A/N So this is another dual-chapter, but this time, we'll be looking at Mike and Matt. There was no Mike or Matt section of the video, but I love the characters **_**so**_** much (especially Mike), and I just had to give them a voice.**

MaPOV

You have always been the quiet one.

Even at home you've never been the most vocal.

That's what made it so strange for you to find yourself shouting at the top of your lungs in the middle of a corridor about two weeks after Rachel was shot. You were walking to your math class when you passed a group of jocks standing in a group and talking. You don't know exactly what they were talking about, but you manage to catch a snippet of conversation from none other than David Karofsky.

"- hear there was so much blood that the room took three days to fully clean," then he gives this little laugh, and you don't know whether or not it's disbelief or if he is actually laughing at the amount of blood on the floor, but you find that you don't really care, because who the hell is he to just talk about it in such a nonchalant voice? Who the _fuck_ does he think he is?

So you swing around and you shove him as hard as you can. He stumbles a little, then he is also swinging around to face you, and he looks pissed. He starts to yell something along the lines of 'what the fuck', but you cut across him.

"Don't you dare talk about her! Don't you stand there and talk about what happened and then _laugh_! What, you think it's funny? You think it's fucking _funny _what happened to her? You're a piece of _shit _Karofsky!" you are shouting, but you barely realise that you're doing it.

You think that maybe he didn't mean it like that, but now he is getting defensive and he's still in hate-Rachel-Berry default mode, and so he starts to say things that he probably wouldn't usually say. Because as much of a dick as Karofsky is, he's not someone who takes pleasure in someone else's tragedy. Like…_real_ tragedy. But since he's getting defensive, he doesn't think as straight as he usually would and the next words out of his mouth seal his fate, "No, you know who is a piece of shit? Rachel fucking Berry!"

If you were feeling a bit more calm, you would see that the moment the words left his mouth, he looked instantly regretful, but you aren't feeling calm, you are feeling goddam _murderous_ and so you just dive at him. You've never gotten into a fist fight before, but you don't really think there's much to it; just hit and hope something sticks. You barely even notice the punches you receive, and it's only when some teacher pulls you both apart that you realise that there is blood dripping from your nose.

You are breathing heavily and you still want to take another swing at him, but there is a hand against your chest stopping you from moving forwards. Through the haze of your thoughts, you realise that Mr Schue has just walked onto the scene and he is looking at you with a questioning look.

"What the hell is going on here?" you hear the teacher ask you.

You try to calm yourself enough to form words and eventually you manage to growl, "He called Rachel Berry a piece of shit."

You are looking directly at Mr Schue as you say it and so you don't miss the anger that flashes across his face, and he almost looks like he wants to hit Karofsky as well, but he just goes over to him and grabs his shoulder and says in a low and dangerous voice, "Principal's office. _Now_."

As the crowd starts to disperse, you feel someone grab your arm and lead you away. Before you know what's happening, you are in an empty classroom and Tina is dabbing at your nose with a tissue. When you see tears on her face, that's when you really break and suddenly you are both crying and holding each other like it might help.

"I miss her," you whisper, and Tina just nods, and you think that maybe it's because she just can't find words right now.

When you go home that afternoon, your mother doesn't ask you about the bruises, and you figure that the school must have called. You go right up to your room and just lie on your bed. You don't have the energy for much else, so you just lie and think. Mostly about Rachel. A lot of people don't know how close you and Rachel actually were. You never had a crush on her, but you loved her like a sister. Your parents are friends with her parents and so when you were little, you used to spend a lot of time with her. You wish you had told her how much she meant to you more often.

You dream about her that night. It's different from every other night, because usually you're having nightmares about all the blood…but this time…well this time, it's a dream. She is standing in front of you. Just her. With a start you realise that she is clothed in the same skirt and shirt combination in which she died. You can see a splattering of blood across the front of her shirt, but when she motions for you to follow her and she turns, the image of her back is much more horrifying - there the scarlet stain of Rachel's death has spread across the fabric of her shirt, soaking into it for eternity and dripping down to coat the top of her skirt. The red pattern glistens wetly in the soft light coming from seemingly nowhere, a horrifying reminder of just how Rachel's physical self had died. When she comes to a stop and faces you again, you notice that she has brought you to the choir room. Neither you nor Rachel say a word for quite some time. When she finally opens her mouth, you lean in close so that you don't miss a single word she says.

"Don't forget me Matt," she murmurs and you pull her in for a hug.

"I could never forget a girl like you."

* * *

MiPOV

You are a neat guy.

It's one of those things that not many people know about you.

Your room is sorted into school things, video game equipment, sports stuff and then miscellaneous. When you were little, you used to organise your action men into categories and your mother has many pictures of you standing proudly in front of them. Your little brother always tells you that you're a neat-freak and that it's weird, but you don't care. You even have your subjects colour coordinated in your locker. You're just an organised guy. You used to love that about yourself.

Now you hate it.

You hate it, because _she_ was neat too, _she_ was organised, and it just…it hurts to think about her.

**flashback**

She's bleeding to death in Finn's arms as he inexpertly attempts to stifle the flow of blood. You wish, somewhere in your mind through the garbled, panicky thoughts that your pulse could be hers, because surely you have enough adrenaline and fear to power a whole football field of people right now. You vaguely notice the paramedics moving around Rachel like busy little army ants working on a helpless, dying beetle; they look determined and knowledgable, and the fact that despite a thousand television shows, you don't understand a single thing about how or what or why they are doing makes you want to scream to get their attention. But you don't dare act on this whim, because you think that it might surprise them and they might make a mistake, something critical.

What you don't realise is that they have already covered her with a sheet and that another paramedic is attempting to herd you out of the room with the others.

You turn and see Finn stumbling towards the door, walking near you like a living zombie, his shirt covered with the splattered, brilliant scarlet evidence of Rachel's death. So different from anything you would ever associate with Rachel's painfully neat tendencies.

**end flashback**

When you get home for the first time after Rachel was…killed, it makes you feel a little bit sick. Your room is just…it's _too_ neat now and you hate it.

So you wreck it. With a baseball bat.

You've never had a temper before, but now you are really flying off the handle. You smash trophies, pictures, the pair of sunglasses on your bedside table, your lamp, everything. When you finally calm down enough to drop the baseball bat with a wooden clunk to the floor, you look around you and see nothing but mess and destroyed possessions. It's much better than before.

But then you hear a soft knock on your door and look up to see your mother standing there in shock, "Michael?"

You try to say something back to her, but your voice has stopped working. She takes a step into the room but quickly lifts her foot again when she hears the sound of breaking glass. You see that there are tears on her face because she isn't sure how to help you.

So she just says, "Michael…I…I heard about…what happened," she begins carefully, but doesn't continue, because then you are bursting into tears and she is rushing forwards to pull you into a hug.

"It hasn't even been a day ma, and I miss her! I miss her so much!" you sob and your mother just hugs you tighter.

The next day, you stay in your bed, curled up with a pillow, drifting in and out of sleep plagued by nightmares. You don't move from your bed for another two days, except to go to the toilet. You don't eat and you barely drink. You wonder how you're going to survive this.

Usually when something was upsetting you, you would call up Matt and the two of you would go down to the park to kick around a soccer ball. But not for this. This was not something that could be solved like that. This makes you feel a little lost, everything else aside, because how _are_ you going to survive this?

You get a little scared then, because you don't know the answer.

Rachel was…she was something else. You always admired her determination and heart, and every time someone put her down, a little piece of you died inside, because as much as you wanted to stand up for her…you just…couldn't. Because even though you admired her, you really didn't even know her that well, and you were…shy. You just wish that you _had_ gotten to know her, even just a _little_ better.

But if wishes were horses then beggars would ride.

Which mean that it's too late for that now, and you'll never get the chance to know her better.

So you'll just have to remember her as best you can.

**A/N I'm a little disappointed in myself for the length of Mike's…I had anticipated a longer bit for him, but it just seemed to want to end :/ Oh well. However his is the only one in a dual-chapter to have a flashback, because I had a sudden inspiration strike.**

**Let all of us here at Alphabet-Corp know what you think! (Unfortunately due to budget cuts, there is only one employee - me!)**

**Thankyou muchly!**

**-Alphabet**


	10. Jesse

**JPOV**

Once upon a time, there was a little boy who believed in fairy tales.

Then he grew up.

You think that this sums up your life perfectly.

When you were a little boy and your mother read you bedtime classics, like 'Sleeping Beauty' and 'Snow White and the Seven Dwarves', you had no trouble imagining yourself as the handsome prince who would arrive just in time to save the beautiful damsel in distress. You used to ride about the house on your pony-on-wheels and fend off demons and dragons with your trusty cardboard-sword. Of course, these activities often had to be worked around dance classes, singing lessons and acting workshops. Never-the-less, you were one of those children who could stay a child; naïve and innocent. It was the perfect life, and of course _you_ were the perfect everything. The perfect son, the perfect student, the perfect triple-threat performer (actor/dancer/singer). But...then you became a boyfriend.

It was the first thing that you experienced that was less than perfect. The first thing in your life that didn't go your way.

You're a taker, and you always have been. The trouble is, Rachel Berry is also…_was_ also, a taker. The thing about her, though, is that she (sometimes) managed to find the balance between giving and taking, and so it was wrong of you to expect her to tip in favour of becoming a giver just so that you could get closer to her. It just wasn't her and it never would have been. The thing is, though, is that she would have done it, she _did_ do it. She became a giver (or as much of a giver as she could be), just so that you might stick around.

But you're a taker.

So you took the relationship away from her.

Of course that also meant that you couldn't have it, but that didn't matter _obviously_, because you were only in the relationship so that you could spy on New Directions and so that Shelby could get closer to Rachel.

Only…they _weren't_ the only reasons. Not if you stopped lying to yourself.

So you were at a point in your life where there was a girl, that you cared about (to whatever extent), that you could have been with, if you had just worked on your ability to sometimes be a giver…but who you had maliciously screwed over just because you could. The moment you realise this is the exact moment in which your perspective on life shifts a little and you have your first doubts about believing in fairy tales.

When you get the call, though…well, that's when you realise that you have been living your entire life with your head up your ass. Fairy tales are a crock of shit, and you are a gullible fool for thinking that your life could work out that way.

** flashback **

You are dancing onstage in front of a ten-thousand strong audience. You can barely hear the music over your legions of fans, so it's a little alarming when you can suddenly hear your phone blaring like it's right next to your ear. Then you groan and fling your hand out towards the sound. It wakes you up a little when your hand collides with your dresser. You sit up groggily, swearing as you rub your hand. Once you have woken up a little more, you look at your clock; 2:17AM. Whoever is calling at this hour should get ready for a real chewing out, because anyone who dares to disturb you at this time of morning is just asking for it. (It vaguely occurs to you that you could have just turned your phone off...but no, this is not your fault, it's _their_ fault. The person who is calling, it's their fault.)

Then you see that you don't even recognise the number. The ringing stops and you sigh and lean back on your pillow. Not a minute later, it is ringing again. You pick your phone up again, a little gingerly this time, because now you are little bit worried. It's probably just a prank call, but then you think that maybe it could be something important. You hesitantly press 'accept call' and hold the phone to your ear.

"Jesse St James?" a voice that you don't recognise asks after a moment.

"Yes?" you reply, voice thick with sleep, "Who is this?"

"You, ah, you probably don't remember me," they admit softly. You're about to ask them again who they are, but then they continue, "My name is Mike Chang. I'm from -"

"New Directions," you finish for him, "Yeah I remember. But…if you don't mind me asking, why the fuck are you calling me at 2:20 in the fucking morning?"

"Right…um…well…I mean I wasn't…I wasn't going to call at all, but I thought…I thought that if you didn't know…you probably should," he murmurs, but makes no move to continue.

"Look can you get to the point? I'm kind of tired," in all honesty, you are wondering why you haven't already hung up. But then you realise that there is something about the awful emptiness in his voice that's starting to scare you.

"Y-yeah…um…Rachel's gone," he says suddenly. At first you don't know what he means. Gone? Like gone away? To New York? But then you hear a sniffle and realise he is crying.

For a long moment, neither of you say anything, but then you pluck up the courage to ask in a horribly small and terrified voice, "Like…_gone_?"

He seems to know what you mean, because he simply replies with a grim, "Yeah man."

Suddenly your head is spinning and you want to get off this horrible, horrible ride, but you're strapped in so tight that you can't breathe properly. Through the haze, you hear yourself asking, "But why did you call me?"

There is silence on the other end, and you think perhaps that Mike has no idea why he called you, but then he says, "I guess…I guess I just…I mean even though you guys ended…on a bad note…you were a part of her life, and…and I guess I just thought that you should…know."

You thank him, even though you sort of hate him in a shoot-the-messenger kind of way, and hang up before he can respond. Then you drop your phone and look around your room, since your eyes have adjusted to the darkness and there is just enough moonlight for you to see. You are searching for something, _anything_ that you might have kept that you got from her, _for _her, _something_ that will remind you of her…but you have nothing.

** end flashback **

The fact that you have nothing makes you more pissed off with yourself than you have ever been with anyone else before, and it's because you know that there were so_ many_ things that you _had_ that would have reminded you. Things from her. Because she was a giver sometimes.

But you got rid of all of it.

You know that it's because the moment something doesn't go your way, you have to eliminate that something from your life and your memories. You just wish that she had been different. That you hadn't done that with _her_.

Because now you can barely remember her, and that is something that you will never forgive yourself for.

**A/N Hands up who finds Jesse surprisingly easy to write for! *waves hand enthusiastically* I'm very happy with this chapter, especially considering the fact that I've never written for him before and I really don't like his character. Those two things usually spell disaster in the literary world. But then that's Jesse for you, I suppose.**

**What thinks ye' of this chapter? Good? Bad? Boil 'em? Mash 'em? Stick 'em in a stew?**

**-Alphabet**


	11. Tina

TPOV

You've always had a morbid fascination with death.

But this…not this.

It was…the idea of it.

Now that _this_ has happened, you find it hard to believe that you ever found this process strangely alluring. You don't want Rachel to be thought of as a process.

_Gulls in the sky and in my blue eyes _  
_You know it feels unfair _

Also, you feel that your usual get-up might be considered disrespectful by some…and while you don't think that she would mind - since she encouraged you to always express yourself - others might not agree. Part of you wants to wear your normal clothes anyway, because Rachel would be fine with it (you think), but then you've never really had much confidence - at least…not enough.

You like to think that Rachel helped you with that. With the confidence issue. And she did. So did the rest of Glee.

You were always jealous of _her_ confidence though. How no matter what people said to her, she would still hold her head high and be herself. You wish you could be like that. Like her. In fact the only time you saw her in a situation where she didn't look like she was in charge, was the choir room with those two men.

** flashback **

They've taken Rachel from Finn…and she looks scared. She looks _damn_ scared. She's…she's not in control, and that scares you because she's _always_ in control, and if Rachel is scared and cannot control this situation, then you will find it very hard to keep lying to yourself. And you do find it hard. You can no longer close your eyes and pretend that this isn't happening, because you have seen that look on her face and it has freaked you out more than anything else you have seen today. (In a manner of speaking)

Things happen very fast after she is taken. Before you know it, she has been shot. And then both of the criminals have been shot and then you are all rushing over to Rachel.

You have a picture in your room, on your desk next to your bed. It's of the anime genre, and you love that, but you think that now it has lost its appeal. It's a drawing of a school girl. You never have noticed how eerily similar the girl in the picture is to Rachel, but with a grim realisation, it occurs to you that they are more similar now than ever before. The girl in the picture is wearing a simple black dress, and a black lace veil to match it, in fact the whole picture is in black and white. Except for one important feature. The blood. She is lying in a pool of blood, much like Rachel is now. In the picture, it is not clear as to what killed the girl, and that is not really even the reason you liked it so much. You just liked the way it was drawn. You liked the way the artist used only one colour, and the rest was black and white. It was a powerful technique, you think. But now it just makes you a little bit sick.

Because there is Rachel, lying there, so still and pale and...and you don't know if she's dead, but she looks close to it. You have never seen skin so pale, and that's even more disconcerting because she is usually quite tanned. And, oh _god_, her lips are turning blue, and she's not moving, and Finn is still yelling at her, and Quinn is screaming, and everyone, _everyone_, is crying.

** end flashback **

Her funeral nearly kills you, because the Jewish don't do flowers, and that sucks, but they also won't let the Glee Club sing anything. You get that it's tradition, but you think that Rachel…you _know _that Rachel would have liked it. So you sit, and you mourn, and you hold Artie's hand, and you try so hard not to picture her lying there…so small in death, so vulnerable. It's when you were first told that there would be no singing, that you decided that you would sing for her regardless.

It takes you forever to think of the perfect song to sing. You trawl through hundreds of Broadway songs, and thousands of songs that you think might convey what you are trying to say to her. But then it occurs to you that maybe you don't even _know_ what you are trying to say to her. It's only when you realise that you already know the perfect song that you know what it is you want to say.

_And I need a friend _  
_Oh, I need a friend _  
_To make me happy _  
_Not stand here on my own_

You know that you need to practice this song so that when you go and sing it to her, it is nothing less than perfect, but you don't want to go to the auditorium, because Finn has made a habit of hanging out there. It's a Thursday when you work up the courage to even go near the choir room. It isn't until the next Tuesday that you actually go inside.

You practice for weeks. You go there nearly every lunch time, but the rest of Glee Club doesn't seem to miss you, because after the whole sitting-at-Rachel's-table debacle, the club has been spending less and less time together. Artie knows where you go, but says that he doesn't think he can brave the choir room yet. You don't blame him. In fact, as far as you're aware, you, Mercedes and Mike are the only ones who have even walked past it.

A month and a half has passed before you finally deem yourself ready to sing to Rachel.

It's the first time you've been to see her. Hell, it's the first time you've been to a cemetery…well…besides the funeral. You don't take anything with you, in terms of backing music, but you do rest a small bouquet of flowers at the foot of her headstone. You take a deep breath and think about what you want to say to her. Then the words just come.

"Rachel…you gave me so much. I used to think to myself, 'I wonder what life without Rachel Berry would be like'. Not in a bad way, I mean…just because you're so…unique. I wish I had never wondered that, because it's not a life I like. Hardly anyone from Glee talks anymore…not all together like we used to. No one goes in the choir room except me. Finn is…well I don't even know if…if he'll ever really be himself again. I don't think anyone is ever really going to be themselves ever again. Rachel…I know you always wanted to mean something to people…and I know that this is definitely not a situation I would choose for my worst enemy…but you did, you know. Mean something, I mean. We all miss you Rachel, so much. I wish…I wish more than anything that you were here right now," you are sobbing then, and you haven't even sung for her yet, but you think that it's ok to cry.

It takes another full quarter of an hour for you to calm down enough to be able to even _think_ about singing. Ten minutes after _that_, you take a deep breath…and you sing.

It's not as good as her, you think, but it's the best _you_ have ever sung, and you think she'd be proud. People always say cheesy things like 'I bet they're up there smiling down', but you think that right now, that's bullshit, because Rachel would be pretty pissed at the moment. She was only 16, for Christ's sake! And it's only been a month and a half. Give her another half a year and then maybe she'll start to smile. All you know is that you wouldn't like to be in St Peters' shoes right now, because he'd probably be getting an earful about how it wasn't her time. And you agree with her.

You weren't kidding when you said that you wish more than anything that Rachel was here. She was special, and you did consider her a friend. And you're glad that she knew that, because you did tell her. You just wish you had told her more often. It makes you that much more grateful to have had her when you realise that at least you have the courage to do this for her, and that it was her that helped you to do that.

_Look at me standing _  
_Here on my own again _  
_Up straight in the sunshine_

When you finally get home, your mum asks you where you have been, and you just say that you've been visiting a friend. You think that she knows where you have been, and you are grateful when she doesn't pry. When you flop down on your bed, you feel that empty, numb feeling sitting in the pit of your stomach - the one you have gotten so used to.

That night, your parents have the news on and you can hear it through the wood of your door. You hear the newsreader give several statistics about victims of shootings, or something like that, and you feel like yelling. Because Rachel is _not _a statistic. She is a 16 year old girl with a head full of determination and a heart full of gold. She is your friend.

And you will remember her as such.

**A/N Hmmm…this was written in parts, because I had the ending for this chapter, then I wrote the beginning, then I added some more to the end, then I filled in the middle…so let me know if something doesn't make sense. Uhh…perhaps I should hire someone to give this chapter a more flowing feng shui.**

**Oh well, I still thought it represented Tina. What did you think? Let me know, fellow FanFic-ers.**

**The song that I had in my head (with the lyrics interspersed throughout the chapter) that Tina sang was 'Wonderful Life' by Black. I didn't put it all in, because I don't like to insert whole sets of lyrics.**

**-Alphabet**


	12. Mercedes

MerPOV

You have never thought of yourself as a bad person.

Sure you've done some things that you sort of wish you hadn't, but never before have you ever thought to yourself that maybe instead of being funny, you were just being a bitch.

No one has ever called you a bitch - not to your face - and maybe that's because you're a loser, so you don't have anyone to be a bitch to. But that's not true, you think, because you were a bitch to Rachel. Sometimes it wasn't intentional…but sometimes it was. Part of you wishes that you could still be a bitch to her, because at least that would mean she was alive. But then you realise that that sounds absolutely awful and that even though she _isn't_ alive, you _are_ still being a bitch to her.

Now you don't really know what to think.

One thing that keeps haunting you, though, is the fact that the smallest, most infinitesimal part of you is a little bit relieved that it was her, because you _know _that they were heading for Kurt. And while you are not, and will never be, _in_ love with him, you do still love him, because soul mates, you think, don't have to have _that_ particular kind of love to _be_ soul mates. You ask your mother if that makes you heartless. A bitch. She looks at you sadly and shakes her head. Of course it doesn't, she says. You don't answer, so she asks if you heard her.

You heard her…you just don't believe her.

** flashback **

They're heading for you. Oh god, they're heading for you. But then you feel Kurt gripping you harder and you realise that they are going for him.

_No, please no,_ you think desperately, _Not him. Not Kurt. Please, please, oh god._

Things are moving in slow motion. The two men are moving towards you at a seemingly glacial pace, and you think this is good because it will give you and the rest of the Club ample time to run away, except that everything else is moving at the exact _same_ pace, and there is nothing you can do about it.

Then suddenly everything changes. There is a sob. Their attention has been diverted. They are turning away from Kurt, away from you. You send a silent prayer skyward. You don't know what you would have done if they had taken Kurt from you.

Then they are talking and you realise that they haven't stopped coming towards the Club, they've simply switched targets, from Kurt to you don't know who. This unknown is filled in for you when you see Rachel being hauled towards the windows, her face as white as a sheet. For possibly the first time in her life, she is not saying a word and does not look as if she wishes to. You are terrified of what they are going to do to her.

You are kind of confused when you see them hoist her up to the window, but then your petrified brain catches on and you realise that they are showing her to the police to let them know there are hostages. You bury your head in your hands and suddenly you are feeling very numb. Your ears have filled with cotton wool and you don't notice when Rachel falls or even the gunshots, because you just…you can't notice. Because if you do…you'll have to admit that she has been shot…and that…that you feel horrifyingly relieved that it was her and not Kurt. You can't even explain it, and you wish that the feeling would go, because it's making you sick…but it won't.

Without realising it, you are standing up and offering your hand to Kurt, who looks equally as shocked. You are stumbling over to where the rest of the Club is gathered…and you are staring down at her broken and bloodied body. She is gasping for air as Finn cradles her and brokenly sobs her name. Quinn is screaming, but no one is paying her heed, Kurt is crying, though he doesn't seem to be aware of this, Santana and Brittany are clutching each other for support, EMTs are swarming the room. It's chaos.

** end flashback **

It's still chaos. Your head has been nothing _but_ chaos since the day it happened. You want the thoughts to stop. The memories to stop. The goddam _pain_ to _stop_. But it won't none of it will. You don't think it ever will.

Perhaps that's your punishment for being relieved.

Kurt ignores you in the days following her death, and you find yourself a little bit angry about this, because he is your _soul mate_. He should appreciate the terror that went through you when they were heading for him. He should…he should be _with_ you. You should be comforting each other. But he hasn't even spoken…to _anyone_.

So you're alone.

You're going crazy because you've never been this alone in your entire life.

You are rapidly losing weight, as well, because you keep forgetting to eat. It's funny how you used to have a problem with eating too much and now it's something you can barely remember to do. It's not like you are starving yourself…you just…forget. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that your body clock has gone haywire, since sleeping has become a thing of the past. You have deep circles under your eyes because you have not slept for more than half an hour each night, and sometimes not even that much. You know it's not healthy, but the nightmares are driving you crazy.

The whole Glee Club avoids the choir room like the plague, and that's fair, you think. But then one day you are walking near the corridor during lunch and you hear a voice. You creep towards the room and hesitantly lift your hand to rest, fingers splayed, on the wood of the door. You don't push it open immediately, because for one absurd moment you are afraid that you'll open it and there will be this huge blood stain still on the floor, and you know you wouldn't be able to handle that. But then the rational side of you tells you that of course they would have cleaned the floors. You still don't really want to go in. The only thing that keeps you there is knowing that you recognise the voice emanating from within.

So you push open the door and see a most surprising sight; Tina is sitting at the piano, her back to you, singing a song that you don't recognise.

This surprises you for two reasons. The first is that out of all the people in the Glee Club, Tina was the first one to work up the courage to return to the choir room. The second is that even though you don't recognise the song, you know that you have heard it before. You heard it once when Rachel was scrolling through her iPod - which was attached to speakers at the time - and this song came on. You know that that is where Tina heard it as well, because she had asked what it was called. You don't remember the name, but you remember the look that had settled onto Rachel's features and you could tell that it was one of her favourites.

It occurs to you that maybe you knew Rachel at least a _little_ better than you think you did.

You are suddenly hit with a wave of intense grief and you hurry from the scene before you.

You wonder how many more moments like this you will have to endure, and you find that even though they make your stomach twist with angst, you want more of them.

Because the reason that they make you so upset is that you are remembering Rachel with unforgiving clarity. And that is something that you aren't sure you want to lose.

**A/N Mercedes is interesting to write for. When I started, I wasn't sure which parts of her I wanted to focus on. It's not as guilt-trippy as Kurt was, but I feel that there is enough of it for her character. **

**Don't let me fill you up with what I think, however. You should let me know what **_**you**_** think, O valued reader! So if you've got time, drop me a line, and I'll do my best to get back to you ASAP :D**

**-Alphabet**


	13. Shelby

ShPOV

You're a monster.

An absolute monster.

What kind of person pushes away a little girl - who is just looking for a mother - saying that they just can't do a mother/daughter relationship, and _then_ adopts the baby of two of that girl's friends? Well…maybe not friends… Either way, it's an awful thing that you did, and…you don't think you'd be able to live with yourself if you didn't now have a baby to care for.

You are suddenly pulled from your reverie when you hear Beth crying and you walk numbly into her room. You pick her up immediately and start rocking her. Unfortunately for you, she's got a wispy head of her father's dark hair, and ever since you saw that bulletin, you keep finding yourself imagining that it's _her_. That you somehow got to keep her, and the last 16 years didn't happen. And that means that that Monday didn't happen. And that means that you didn't attend your daughter's funeral yesterday.

Then suddenly you feel a little sick. Perhaps it's because deep down you know that you don't have any right to call her your daughter. But then again you don't really care about what you do or don't have a right to do. Because she's dead and you just _need_ to feel like you had a connection with her, however small, because then maybe you wouldn't feel so goddam _awful_! You keep lying to yourself, telling yourself that…that you _cared_, because maybe you could have. Maybe you _could_ have cared. If only you'd tried. But you didn't. Because Shelby Corcoran doesn't have to _try_ for things. She _gets_ things. And yeah, you've worked hard for things in your life, a lot of things. But working hard is not the same as _trying, _because trying implies that there is a chance of failure, and that is another thing that you don't do. Ever.

Except that you did.

You failed her. You failed and so you tried to sweep it under the rug. You adopted Beth.

And you think that that makes you even worse, because now you have dragged this sweet, innocent little girl into something that she didn't have to be a part of. You promise yourself then that you will love Beth forever and a day and that you will not fail her.

Once Beth has quieted down, you set her in her cot again and make your way to the lounge room. You perch awkwardly on the arm of the largest sofa and really take the time to think.

** flashback **

You hear about the McKinley High fiasco on the news.

You are in the kitchen, preparing your dinner while Beth watches from her portable bassinet, when you hear the school mentioned. You don't think twice about it because you assume that the Cheerios have probably won another Nationals, or something, and that that insufferable woman, Sue Sylvester, has demanded a story on it. But then you hear something that sounds suspiciously like 'Rachel Berry'. Was there a talent scout at Regionals that saw her? Despite the fact that you really don't know her _that_ well, you are strangely proud and so you put down your knife to go and see what is being said.

The moment you enter the lounge room, something is wrong, because the words 'McKinley High Shooting' are leaping out at you and this is…well it can't be right. You realise that you had just heard the introduction from the kitchen, and so now you are watching the actual story. You missed the first little bit in the time it took you to walk from the kitchen to the lounge room, and so now you are being assaulted by a full screen picture of the little girl that looks _so _much like you and the words, "…in the tragedy, there were three fatalities. The two criminals were shot dead and one student who has been identified as Rachel Berry…"

Things get kind of fuzzy from there as you try to think of any possible explanation for this, but you are coming up blank. With shaking hands, you reach for your phone and stare down at it. You take a deep breath and slowly, calmly, scroll through your contacts.

Holding the phone to your ear, you hold your breath as you wait for Will Schuester to pick up his phone. He does so after the twelfth ring with a weary, "Shelby."

"Is it true?" you whisper in a terrified voice, "Please Will, please tell me that it's not true."

There is a pregnant pause and your gut twists a little more. You hope that it's because he's confused. Confused because nothing…nothing _happened_, so of course he doesn't know what you're talking about. But then you hear, "I…I'm sorry Shelby. It's…it's tr-ue," and his voice cracks a little on the 'true'.

"Oh God. Oh my…my _God_. She's…she's gone?" and now tears are running down your face and you body is shaking with repressed sobs as you try to hold it together. You don't know why you are trying so hard, because it's not like anyone is around to see you, but that doesn't even matter because when Will answers in the affirmative, you break down anyway.

He offers words of comfort, but his heart's not really in it. You don't blame him because he's lost someone too. And then suddenly Beth is crying. She must be hungry, you think.

"I-I have to go," you say automatically, and then it's like you've flicked a switch and everything is back to normal…on the outside, at least.

You go into the kitchen and you fix Beth a bottle. You feed her, burp her, change her and put her to bed. Then you go to the bathroom, your dinner lays forgotten on the kitchen bench. You brush your teeth and go to your room. Then you stay up all night…sobbing. Beth cries twice that night, and both times, you instantly assume the role of parent-in-charge, but the moment you are back in the privacy of your own room, you are bawling.

** end flashback **

You wonder whether it's fair of you to cry this much. Because it has now become a regular thing for you to cry every night, scraping in whatever sleep you can get.

And as you cry, you think about her and who she was going to become.

And you know that you will remember her…you just wish that there was more for you to remember.

**A/N Yes it's a short chapter, and I apologise profusely. It's just that I don't really like her and I find her difficult to write for. Nevertheless, I feel that I have summed up everything that needs to be said where Shelby is concerned.**

**Let me know if you disagree. Or agree. Or are indifferent. Whatever floats your boat.**

**Oh and there's only one more chapter after this and then we're DONE.**

**-Alphabet**


	14. Epilogue

FPOV

It isn't until at least four months after Rachel's death that the Glee Club starts to really interact again. Of course, the Glee Club is discontinued, because without Rachel, it just doesn't feel the same. Maybe they would go back to it eventually, but for now, it's best left alone.

Each member of Glee is progressing through the stages of grief at their own pace. Most of them have reached acceptance, though the grief is still new and raw whenever something reminds them of her.

But you are finding it hard to move past depression.

You see her everywhere you look.

A girl with her brown hair. A gold star in a shop window. Songs on the radio. Someone else wearing the same perfume. She's everywhere, and as much as you want to see her, you just...this isn't the same thing, and it _hurts_. This is a tease, and even after four months of living it, you still don't know how to handle it.

You still regularly visit her to tell her about your day, or even just cry. Her birthday was hard. You sat down there for the entire day brokenly singing 'Faithfully' and sobbing. Your mother doesn't seem to know how to act around you anymore, and you can feel yourself slipping away from society. You know it's not good, but you can't find it within yourself to care too much.

People keep wanting you to talk to them, but you just don't know what to say. Miss Pillsbury has given up, and you can tell that your mother is close to it, though you know she would never _really_ give up. Kurt also regularly asks you to talk to him. You think that one day you might. You just aren't ready yet.

You haven't lost it too much recently, but there was one moment at school that you just weren't ready for that had you running as fast as you could to the auditorium to sob. You were at school and you had just gotten your books out of your locker, though you knew you probably weren't going to use them much anyway, and you instinctively looked over your shoulder to _her_ locker. As far as you knew, it still hadn't been given away, but then suddenly this…this _tiny_ girl walks up to unlock it and her hair is so similar and you just…you don't know what to do, because you know that she's dead, you _know_ that, but…the mind can do funny things when it wants to. You start to walk towards her with this big, goofy smile and just as you are about to call 'Rachel!', she turns around to greet one of her friends.

You wonder when Rachel got glasses. Or when her nose got a little bit smaller. Or when her skin got a bit more pale and freckly.

That's when you notice that her hair is not the same colour as Rachel's at all, and that this girl is not quite as short as Rachel. Suddenly a wall of grief is slamming into you hard and fast, and you don't know how you don't end up flat on your back - then it's like you are losing her all over again.

So you run.

Fast.

Before you know it, you are in the auditorium. You go there every time you want to be a little closer to Rachel when you are at school. You sit on the edge of the stage, hunched over. Sobbing.

Then suddenly you feel a hand on your shoulder. You look up and see Kurt standing there, his face flooded with sympathy and flecks of grief.

"Finn, talk to me," he begs.

It stuns both of you when you actually open your mouth and your voice is weirdly calm and steady, "It's just...there's _so_ many things I wanna say to her, and I'm…_never_ gonna be able to."

Kurt looks at you for a moment, still slightly stunned that you actually responded, but then he sits down next to you and takes a deep breath, before saying, "Like what?"

You barely miss a beat before replying with, "How I would do anything for her, how…no matter what I do, I'm always thinking about her," then you pause as you wonder how all of this never occurred to you before. The next words out of your mouth are the truest words you've ever spoken, "How I'm gonna spend my whole life loving her…and she's never even gonna know."

**A/N What a fun ride that was :D**

**Many thankyous to all who reviewed and ESPECIALLY thankyou to courtsgleelove for lending me the plot to her AWEEEEESOME video!**

**Join me next time, when I…write a story.**

**-Alphabet xox**


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